


Aim

by aptasi



Category: Wheel of Time - Robert Jordan
Genre: Awkwardness, Exhaustion, F/M, Flirting, Humor, Innuendo, Mild Gore, Missing Scene, Politics, Sexual Tension, Suspicions, Wariness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:47:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28062675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aptasi/pseuds/aptasi
Summary: Moiraine returns something to Thom after that first attack on Emond's Field.
Relationships: Moiraine Damodred/Thom Merrilin
Comments: 5
Kudos: 13





	Aim

Thom should not have come back into the inn, where she was. He should have found someone to entertain. Instead he was sitting in a mostly empty room when Lan brought her downstairs, enough to see she had trouble with those stairs. Her legs nearly went out from under her even with Lan's assistance. Moiraine her name was, should not be much threat to anyone at the moment, but that didn't make her safe. Aes Sedai have long memories and a taste for grudges besides. Not that Thom precisely lacked either of those things. 

Lan left her while she talked to Mistress al'Vere, to prowl around menacingly outside. Thom tried not to watch the conversation too closely, but Moiraine seemed to be putting on a friendly face, the kind that makes the other person feel that they understand and are understood completely. The conversation continued for some time, with the nods involved becoming more pronounced and frequent. Some agreement apparently was reached. The gray-braided woman eventually patted Moiraine's hands and bustled away. 

Then the Aes Sedai turned her head to Thom and spent the effort to walk over to him. 

They both checked that no one else could hear, eyes moving almost in unison. 

Moiraine reached into her dress and something clanked on the table.

"A true shot" she said "provided you were aiming at the trolloc I was fighting and not at me."

Thom reached out and flipped the handkerchief open. His own throwing knife from last night, still gory with hissing black fluid and hair. She could have cleaned it instead of keeping the bloody thing in her dress. Or wherever she was keeping it. "What I aimed for I hit" he said gruffly. 

Moiraine nodded impassively. "Good." 

He tried not to give every thought he had in his head away on his face. Enviable skill those women possessed in that regard. Precious few tells they had in the Great Game, although not none like some fools thought. 

"It is a strange thing." Moiraine mused. "I do battle in a forgotten place, and I have the strangest supporters with the courage to be at my back. Had this happened in a palace, Lan and I would have fought alone."

A palace. What did she mean by that? Not to call attention to her origins surely. He was already more than a little worried that she might be that particular Moiraine. "Palaces and such…" he made a dismissive gesture "What do I care of such things? Perhaps nobles are cowards compared to farmfolk. I would not know. I am a simple Gleeman."

Moiraine glanced at the knife "And a crack shot." She observed wryly. 

"From stage stunts" He lied. "Does Lan know?' He had tried to stay out of both their eyes last night, but that shot at the one who'd closed distance on Moiraine was too good to pass up. Seeing Moiraine's staff cave in the beast's head in the same impact as his knife found the back of its neck, in a resounding redundant downbeat, had been oddly satisfying too, even if it meant she hadn't exactly needed his help. 

"No." She said. "I would rather not have him feeling" she smirked again "Upstaged."

That hulk of a Warder she had likely thought no one was allowed to save Moiraine's hide but him. Possibly not even her own self. "Well, I won't tell if you won't." Thom said. 

Moiraine nodded and stepped back. He could see exhaustion even more pronounced now in each of her movements. Guess she had healed the boy's father then. Interesting tactic. A string on him and some wear on her. Which might have been an obvious choice, with the Aes Sedai preference for strings as known as it was, except that she had very little wear left to spend. She had done a lot of fighting last night and a lot of healing. An odd set of decisions taken together, unless she had some reason. 

"Moiraine Sedai." He said. "May I ask, to what Ajah do you belong?"

Her eyebrow arched a little bit as if she were amused. "Blue. Does that matter?"

Like her dress, he thought, though it was a very nice dress. Somehow bringing out her figure, even though it should be a tattered mess by now. But she was still waiting for his answer, fool he was. Shouldn't have asked that. "I met a Red sister once," he said looking down at the knife. "Didn't much like her."

Moiraine nodded. "I can think of quite a few Reds I do not like."

He needed to get this conversation off the Red Ajah because if it wasn't obvious he thought she was looking for those kind of boys, and that he intended to interfere, it would be soon. "I thought with all the healing prowess you might be a Yellow."

"That is more a means to an end than a calling for me." Moiraine mused."What do you think of Blue? Disappointing?" Her eyes, not blue but lovely brown, sparkled. 

What did he think? He thought that Blues could be anything and their long running feud with the Red wouldn't keep his bacon unburned. Even if feuding with the Red was something to which he could solidly relate. Brown would have been better, in that it at least matched her cover story, but Blues studied history to make it. Very carefully, as if he were under oath himself Thom said. "Alright. Not as good as Green."

Moiraine chuckled. 

Make her smile but stay in one piece. Thom thought. 

"I suppose, in another life, I could see myself as Green. I am good at it."

His cheeks heated. 

"Battle." She whispered. 

He shivered. 

Moiraine looked over at the door as if she saw something he did not, and then the tiredness poured down her face once more. "Thank you for your aim, master gleeman," she said and walked away, leaving thom with his favorite knife, dripping corrosive blood on a handkerchief that smelled like roses.

**Author's Note:**

> So I seem to have a sudden influx of plot bunnies (some specifically Moiraine/Thom some from other times/aspects of Moiraine's life). I'm going to try to release those and keep up with their breeding while I figure out if any of the long WIP Moiraine/Thom fic I have has legs. I haven't published a chapter fic since 2013(!) and I know I find it trickier to keep those in character but oh look plot bunnies! (Do fanfic writers still call them that anymore? They better hope Mat doesn't concuss them)


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